Jack paused, shocked. Were they breeding? Already?
He could see a particularly large stack of bones in the centre of the room. A throne of bones, reminiscent of one Jack had once seen in a catacomb in Europe.
The large mass moved. It was a massive creature, and plated bones protruded from its shoulders, forming spikes. A severed child’s head had been placed atop each spike, much like some sort of grisly trophies. Fighting the bile rising up his throat, Jack turned away, his mind reeling. He had seen this creature before. When they were captured. It hadn’t had the heads then. The creature led, gave out orders.
Jack stumbled back, pushing George farther into the corridor. His eyes wandered lower. At the big creature’s feet, blonde hair flowed over a woman’s half-eaten body.
No! Sarah…!
Jack remembered that, in a moment of clarity when he was drifting in and out of consciousness while trapped on the wall, he had seen Sarah being taken. Taken for slaughter. All her past, present, and possible futures snuffed out in an instant. In the end, she had become these monsters’ sustenance.
George started screaming. Jack spun. The boy was standing in the doorway, looking directly at his mother’s remains.
As one, the creatures’ heads swivelled around to face the door. Terrifying screeches echoed around the cavernous room. With stunning speed and agility, they leapt from the floor.
Jack pulled George away and slammed the door. Jamming one of his hammers through the handle, he hoped it would stop them for a moment, enough time to get away.
Grabbing the still-screaming George by his hand, he sprinted up the corridor, back toward the room they had sheltered in.
Behind them, wood and concrete splintered with a crash. Turning, Jack saw the monsters piling into the corridor, screeching and howling, saliva dripping from their sucker mouths. Muscles rippled beneath semi-translucent skin. They spotted Jack and George, and howled as they bounded toward them.
George reached the red door first, and was pulling it open when the next door down opened. The man with the red trucker’s cap appeared, a stunned look on his face as he took in the unfolding chaos. Jack barreled into him, taking him to the ground. The man bucked beneath him, shifting his weight in an attempt to throw Jack off. His hands flailed, desperate to get a hold on Jack. Jack saw an opening and, without hesitation, rammed a screwdriver up under the man’s chin, burying it deep into his brain. The man’s eyes went wide with disbelief as Jack watched the life blink out.
Groping traitor bastard!
A creature leapt off the wall at Jack, claws extended. Jack twisted and threw himself through the door. But too slow. The creature raked its claws down Jack’s leg, tearing into his flesh. Screaming in pain, Jack stabbed down with the screwdriver, plunging it through the weird translucent skin into its flesh, and into Jack’s leg just above the knee. Gritting his teeth, Jack kicked out with his free leg, smashing into the creature’s head. The monster howled in anger, clawed limbs scratching Jack’s torso. George, leaning over Jack, started whacking the monster on the head with his little hammer. The monster momentarily let Jack go, to deal with this new annoyance, giving him the chance to kick out again. Freeing himself, Jack grabbed George, slammed the door closed, and locked the handle.
Immediately, the creatures started throwing themselves at the door.
Throom, throom, throom. The sound of the creatures hitting the door reverberated around the small room.
Ignoring the agony lancing up his body, Jack pulled himself to his feet. He knew the flimsy door and lock wouldn’t hold the monsters out for long. Hobbling over to the metal lockers next to the door, he tried to tip them over.
“George, help me push!” he yelled.
The little red-haired blessing pushed against the metal side, and with their joint effort it crashed across the doorway.
“And this one too.”
A second locker joined the first.
Exhausted from the fight, and the effort of moving the lockers, Jack gasped for breath. Blood continued to pour out of his wounds, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding, at least temporarily. Sitting down with his back against the far wall, Jack taped up his wounds with the last of his duct tape. He could see they were deep. God knows what bacteria and germs those things have on their claws. Will I become one of them?
The creatures continued the slam against the door. Jack could hear tearing sounds. They were beginning to tear the plasterboard walls surrounding the door.
Frantically, Jack looked around for an escape route. The small window was out; Jack had already tried it the day before. Welded shut, for some reason. The glass was reinforced with wire mesh.
They were trapped in a room with horrifying creatures attacking them, and with no way out. The same as in Aliens… Aliens! Suddenly, Jack had the answer. The ceiling! He looked at it. It was a false hanging ceiling, made with cheap plaster tiles that could be individually moved.
Thanking his movie obsessions, and his knowledge of building materials, Jack grabbed George under his arms and hoisted him on top of the lockers. Jumping up, Jack pushed a tile up and to one side. He poked his head through. He could see right across the rooms, and dividing the rooms were solid concrete walls with enough room to walk on.
Throom. Throom. Throom.
“C’mon, George.” He grabbed the child and lifted him through into the ceiling cavity. “See that concrete bit? Run along to the end. Go! Now!”
Screeching, and then a huge rip, sounded from below as the monsters tore through the wall and into the room. Jack’s heart leaped into his throat. With one final look below, he replaced the tile, then turned to follow George, blood dripping off his boot and onto the ceiling tiles.
A monster smashed through the ceiling behind. If they hadn’t been so dangerous, he’d have laughed as it got all tangled in the metal struts and wires. A red mist descended over Jack’s vision. Pulling the rusty, red-handled machete from his belt, he lashed out at the nightmare's head, slicing into its neck and on, down through muscle and tissue. Black, gunky blood gushed over his hands. The machete stuck fast, lodged on the spinal column.
He pushed against the monster’s chest, yanking the blade out.
Another one smashed its way through the ceiling.
Oh, you want some too!
He swung out with the machete, taking a big hunk of its face off.
“Jack! Jack!” George screamed at him. More creatures started slamming through the ceiling.
“Run! I’m coming,” yelled Jack. Taking a last swipe at the nearest creature, Jack half ran, half hobbled after George.
There! He could see sunlight streaming through a maintenance tunnel. He lifted George up, and pushed him into it.
This red-haired kid, his chance at redemption.
Jack pushed himself through the tunnel, pain beginning to take its toll. Gritting his teeth with determination, he fought through it. He wanted to find Dee so bad, to hold her again. Feel her soul. Now he had a new George to love, to look after.
Dee would love him.
With the warmth of the sun on his battered body, Jack inhaled his first clean air in days, revelling in the scents; the river, the slight smell of decaying plants, even the lime from the surrounding concrete. He looked down at the boiling, bubbling river, so far below. The spillways were open. They were standing in the tunnel opening halfway up the dam. On both sides, high cliffs led downriver from the dam. The rest of the concrete dam wall soared above them.
Screeching from above him echoed around the sides of dam. The monsters howled, eager for their prey. The leader stared down at them, his huge muscles rippling under his bark-like skin. The severed heads stared at Jack from empty eye sockets. He pointed at Jack and George, and howled.